Undestined
by Cinore
Summary: She is Charlotte Fulke now, a traveling automail mechanic that has come to Touere to shed her past. With her optimistic outlook, she slowly changes the people of the decadent village. And then HE comes. EdWin, Post Manga, third party perspective.


_Author's Note:_

My first fanfiction in a while; much like my Zelda fanfiction, this is a chapter I wrote a long time ago that I recently rediscovered. I decided that I liked it enough to post it. Whether or not I post more of these chapters will depend on how much feedback I receive.

This story involves the coupling Edward x Winry, told from the perspective of a largely uninvolved third party. While I generally dislike Original Characters, this story needed one in order to accomplish telling their romance from a complete outsider's view.

This tale is post-manga, and runs under the assumption that the turmoil in manga times has already passed. This tale takes places a few years after the conclusion of the manga plot, making Edward and Winry 21 years old.

And if you really couldn't figure it out, Winry Rockbell is Charlotte Fulke. Her alias...

I hope you enjoy! Read and review, please.

* * *

_Disclaimer:_ I do not own Full Metal Alchemist or any of its characters.

**_  
Undestined_**  
**Chapter One:** Rain

Pitter, patter, pitter, patter...

A solitary man sat on a workbench against the wall of his house as the rain danced lightly about his surroundings. There was a thin novel in his hands, the sort that most skimmed through carelessly. He was clothed in layers of plain and dark drab. Black hair cascaded from his head in uneven chunks and lightly framed his face. A pair of spectacles rested on the bridge of his nose and drew attention away from his dark, stolid eyes. He appeared young, maybe 20, 21.

Another man, probably a bit older, approached the first man on the porch and took a seat on the workbench next to him.

"Graham, did you hear?"

There was no response. The second man took the silence as encouragement.

"There's a visitor in town, and she's been telling folks that she's thinking of moving here."

Books were placed down and glances were exchanged. "She?"

"Yeah, she's real young too. Says she came all the way here on her own."

_Touere..._

It was a sparsely populated town that had seen better days. Nestled in a grassy, hilly area that had once been considered attractive and romantic to travelers, it was located away from most major railroads and cities. Its residents fell under three categories -- those who had fallen in love with Touere during its prime and didn't have the heart to leave, those who enjoyed the quiet detachment of the town, and those whose pasts were tied so inextricably to the decadent village and couldn't find the strength to leave.

And both men fell in the last category. It was something they avoided speaking of.

"And what's more, lady says she didn't come by train."

That was strange. Even though most trains to the town had been discontinued long ago, the area wasn't exactly accessible by most other means of travel. Especially for a woman...

Graham suddenly stood, intrigued in the woman who had come to a town that hadn't welcomed a new face in months, maybe years. "Let's go meet her. I would love to see a face in this town I haven't grown sick of yet."

A grin lit up the friend's features. "Annie's tavern. Let's go."

* * *

"Bring another round of beers!"

"No! Bring two!"

The two men entered the boisterous tavern quietly, both a little surprised at how many people had visited today. A slow grin crept onto Graham's face as he tried to recall the last time the lonely tavern had been so damn loud. It had probably been a year or two, for some bachelor party that had been poorly attended.

He leaned against the back wall and kept his focus on the crowd before him. It was impossible to isolate a single voice in the flurry of sounds that filled the room, much less find the girl that had captured most of Touere's attention. It was fine though; Graham had no actual interest in conversing with her. He was curious.

Drinking excessively had long ago been condemned by Touere as an unnecessary luxury in their time of hardship. And such was rarely enjoyable with only a handful of mavericks who dared to defy the norm. It was the reason that most had made a game of finding occasions where drinking felt necessary and natural -- the reason that the poor girl was almost deluged in a sea of alcohol...

Suddenly, half a dozen heads turned towards him and eyed him with drunken grins. Graham drew back under the sudden attention, and only managed to choke out a pathetic, "What?"

"Graham! He has automail. Maybe you can look at his!"

"Yeah! He hasn't had a mechanic in years!"

"Right, right! Graham!"

_...Huh?_

There were general cries of agreement, and within seconds he was pushed, shoved, and dragged towards the girl by a crowd that reeked of alcohol. Graham found himself sitting across the table from a smiling girl that couldn't have been much older than him, but_ felt_ much older. She brushed the long blonde strand of hairs from her bright blue eyes and instinctively reached out towards Graham's hand.

_She's... cute._

He felt his face color slowly as she gripped his automail hand, urged on by the cries of the people surrounding her. Layers of jackets were stripped off, and he sat before her in a plain white t-shirt that did nothing to hide his automail. A wave of self-consciousness swept over him, and he was suddenly very aware of the eyes examining his metal arm.

"He's a work of art, that boy!"

"Lookit that rust! It must've been years since you've done anything with that thing, kid!"

"Good thing we got this girl now! Cha... Charlotte Fulke, did you say?!"

"Yes, that's right."

Her touches were soft but knowing. Her calloused fingers rubbed all the joints that had ceased working properly years ago, and examined most others. At the end of a brief check, she brought her bright, intelligent eyes to his and bit her lower lip.

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the remnants of a bubbly personality that had been worn away by difficult times. A smile lingered on her features as she spoke. "Just like I thought. You're going to need a brand new arm."

There was a roar of laughter from those who were still paying attention -- what exactly was so funny anyway? -- as Charlotte announced this, summoning a few chuckles from Graham's own throat. "Well, it's been four years. I was hoping for a new one by now."

"You know, it's quite unusual for someone to have automail from only the elbow down. It must've been an unusual accident," she continued with a smile that was both wry and playful.

He snorted at her remark. "Yeah, if unusual means ridiculously stupid. I don't really care too much about it though. It's not like I do anything these days that requires much movement anyway. My profession will do that to most people."

"Oh? And what is it you do... Mister..."

"Reed. Graham Reed. I'm a student."

Harsh, drunken voices cut into their pleasant conversation.

"Boy, are you still bothering with that book nonsense?"

"You know, education doesn't get you much in Touere! It ain't putting bread on your table, that's for sure!"

There was a general laughter that filled the tavern and caused Graham to flush in embarrassment. Lowering his eyes, he slid his automail arm from Charlotte's too-gentle grip. Graham stood without looking at her again, too shamed by the mocking laughter to continue his conversation with the lady before him. "Err... Nice meeting you, miss Fulke."

"Likewise," came her polite response.

After a few drinks with his friends, Graham left the tavern quietly and walked in the rain by himself, and let the droplets strike him as they wished.

The rain didn't seem so depressing anymore.


End file.
